“I want to at least get Ray and Amelia out,” she said. “You and I need to create some sort of distraction.”
There was only one distraction I could think of. Jeanette and I could charge the camp, pistols blazing. Maybe then the others could get away. There was more than one problem with that, of course, but a major one was that the cave was on the southeast side of the hill and Ray, Amelia, and everybody else needed to go north. They’d either have to detour by going around the hill or climb up and over. Both routes would expose them to the gunmen. But it was at least a chance. I told Jeanette what I was thinking.
“We’ll go when you say,” she said.
“When you go, I’ll head down to the mother T,” Pick said.
“I still don’t see what good that would do,” Jeanette replied. “What are you going to do when they come? Yell at them?”
Pick rolled over on his back and looked up at the sky. “I don’t know. I just know that I’ve got to stop them somehow.”
I was keeping my eye on the Wolves. Two of the four new ones, AK’s on their shoulders, disappeared as they walked toward the butte, then reappeared, dragging the bodies of Tanya and Edith behind them. They pulled them inside the cook tent, left the bodies there, then came outside. I was surprised when one of them fell down. The other one looked at him, then another Russian walked over. It was hot, even with the approaching storm stirring up a breeze, and I suspected heat prostration. But then the others turned and looked north, then retreated into the camp.
What had that been all about? The downed Wolf just laid there, not moving. It would have been a good time to have binoculars. Another Wolf walked to the supply tent. He inspected his buddy on the ground and then he also fell down and didn’t move. Jeanette had been watching, too. “What’s happening?” she asked.
“Beats me,” I said and it did.
We saw no more movement in the camp for the next hour or two. The storm came upon us at dusk. It started with a brisk wind, then all hell broke loose. Darkness fell across us and the rain came in a deluge. Lightning cracked and thunder shook the ground.
“We should go now,” Jeanette said.
I thought she was right but we’d forgotten something. It was nearly impossible to walk on the wet gumbo, much less run on it to get to the camp. This was demonstrated by Pick standing up and his feet flying out from under him. Covered with mud, he crawled to the lip of the hill and said, “I’m going down to the dig. I can slide there on my belly.”
I said, “All right, Pick. But I still don’t know what you’re going to do.”
“I want to be with her. I can’t explain it.”
Jeanette put her hand on his shoulder. “Pick…”
“I know,” he said. What he knew, I didn’t have a clue, but I guessed it had something to do with their roll in the hay. Pardon me if I don’t put a romantic spin on their moment.
“Stop at the cave and tell them to sit tight,” I told him.
Pick nodded, then slid over the lip and down the hill. He made it to the cave, stopped there, then wallowed on to the nest, which had turned into a gumbo hole. Pick huddled there, waiting. They would kill him when they found him, of course, but there was nothing I could do about that.
Mainly, I was trying to figure out what to do. Even if the storm was short-lived, the gumbo was going to be too slick to walk on until the sun came out to dry it. We could crawl but that was about it. Of course, that meant the Wolves weren’t going to be able to climb up to get us, either. We were in a stalemate.
“Mike, I don’t understand what happened to those two who fell down by the supply tent,” Jeanette said. “They’ve still not moved.”
“There’s probably a lot of fat in their diet. Maybe they had heart attacks.”
“Mike.”
“I don’t know, Jeanette.”
We hunkered down. And then, when the thunderous displays of lightning paused, I heard that strange mechanical sound again. What the hell was that?
It got darker and the rain began to diminish. I guess the helicopter had been waiting for a break in the weather as I heard the whopping of its blades toward the east. That was when the Wolves attacked. They had been sneaking around to the south and assaulted the hill, guns and AKs blazing. Of course, as soon as they started up, they slipped and fell down. They started up again, only to meet the same fate. I guess they don’t have gumbo in Russia. Jeanette and I squeezed off a couple of rounds, missing our targets in the low light. I didn’t detect any shooting from the cave, probably because they were pinned down by all the fire coming their way.